


Plan B

by chocoCate



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Blind Date, F/M, someone is thirsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:43:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoCate/pseuds/chocoCate
Summary: Rinoa is forced to go on a blind date, but her plan to ruin it may change.





	Plan B

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the COWT9, prompt "Piano B"

Her father is stuck in the 18th century or he wants to free himself from having to control her, of that Rinoa is certain. Why else should he want to meddle in her romantic life, to choose a partner for her? Setting up a blind date and forcing her to go is _ridiculous_ and _insulting_ to say the least, and she _will not_ get along with this. 

She has a plan, simple and totally within her reach: make it the worst date possible. She can make people like her with ease, so doing the opposite isn’t certainly going to be a problem. Of course her father forced her to dress nicely and to be on time, but she has some personas ready to be disliked: she can become shallow, judgy, boring, egotistical, all with a snap of her fingers. All the acting classes she took for fun during her formative years are definitely paying off. She has no plan B, that’s how confident she is in her skills.

So Rinoa waits in front of the restaurant, eyes glued on her phone just to look unapproachable, prepared to ruin the night of some random guy, guilty of course of being liked by her tyrant of a father, and already gloating for her victory. 

“Are you Rinoa Caraway?”

The correction is on the tip of her tongue, ready to be said in the most acidic tone she can muster, but all that escapes her mouth is a _eeeeeeh_ as she takes a look at him - he’s _hot_. Like hot as in _I-work-as-a-sexy-firefighter_ hot, an eye candy that exists only in advertisements, and maybe she shouldn’t keep looking at him like this. 

He’s tall, a peek of defined muscles can be seen through his shirt, with an handsome face and ice blue eyes - even the scar gives him character.

It’s a waste, she realizes, to scare this guy off. Plan A isn’t going to cut it; it’s time for plan B.

“Yes, I am” she says, with a smile.

“I'm Squall Leonhart.”


End file.
